Post by Everett Price on Mar 20, 2016 14:40:30 GMT -5
The snow had fallen thick late last night, unexpected; and Everett kept his eyes trained just above the glittering mess, the crunch of his boots satisfying, pressing into the accumulation slowly packing beneath his feet. His breath came out in front of him in cloudy white puffs; his hands stuffed into his pockets, the collar of his thick jacket up around his neck, still leaving his ears bereft and in the cold.
He had been walking with a touch of distraction -- not something Everett was prone to do -- but he had been in Vanderhall longer than he expected; and, although he reasoned with himself that two days in this recent weather was no delicate turnaround for a bird, he had sent off the news of his unexpected whereabouts to his family and as of yet, had heard nothing in return.
Everett was a patient man, but not one comfortable with idling long; and feeling trapped by the city itself, rather than just the walls of Vanderhall, was getting to him.
Just then, as he walked, there was a strange creaking noise just beyond his head; and Everett's dark gaze lifted from the unremarkable point on the ground, to the parapets above. He squinted in the bright light -- although there was news of a storm threatening the coming evening, the day had, so far, cleared up; and dripping buildings and blue sky were blinding, with the ever-present noise of running water. He just made out the slowly shifting burghs of snow above the eaves, when he heard the light, twittering sound of a woman speaking; and the Price man hazarded a glance just a few yards away to a cloaked woman, her face obscured by the fur-trimmed hood that covered her hair.
Unwitting, it seemed, to the inevitable location where she stood; where the thick banks of snow, accumulated the night before, were now dripping -- fated to fall.
And just as the snow drift came sliding off the edge of the eave, Everett -- his body moving as though almost unbeknownst to himself -- managed to close the space between them, and reached forward; grabbing the fur-cloaked woman by the elbow; not entirely gently tugging her out of the line of fire, but both hands hastily guiding her away -- almost, in his strength, lifting her briefly off the ground before settling her back away from the newly fallen snow pile, the woman now safely tucked away under the berth of the eave, closer to the cold stone of the wall. Just as quickly, his hands released her -- aware of their possible unwelcome, his dark eyes still lifted to the parapets above them; noting the glare of light where there was now no obstruction.
"Careful." The words were an afterthought.
Rosalinda Sandoval
[OOC: Let me know if this scenario doesn't work for you and I can tweak it; or the date!]
He had been walking with a touch of distraction -- not something Everett was prone to do -- but he had been in Vanderhall longer than he expected; and, although he reasoned with himself that two days in this recent weather was no delicate turnaround for a bird, he had sent off the news of his unexpected whereabouts to his family and as of yet, had heard nothing in return.
Everett was a patient man, but not one comfortable with idling long; and feeling trapped by the city itself, rather than just the walls of Vanderhall, was getting to him.
Just then, as he walked, there was a strange creaking noise just beyond his head; and Everett's dark gaze lifted from the unremarkable point on the ground, to the parapets above. He squinted in the bright light -- although there was news of a storm threatening the coming evening, the day had, so far, cleared up; and dripping buildings and blue sky were blinding, with the ever-present noise of running water. He just made out the slowly shifting burghs of snow above the eaves, when he heard the light, twittering sound of a woman speaking; and the Price man hazarded a glance just a few yards away to a cloaked woman, her face obscured by the fur-trimmed hood that covered her hair.
Unwitting, it seemed, to the inevitable location where she stood; where the thick banks of snow, accumulated the night before, were now dripping -- fated to fall.
And just as the snow drift came sliding off the edge of the eave, Everett -- his body moving as though almost unbeknownst to himself -- managed to close the space between them, and reached forward; grabbing the fur-cloaked woman by the elbow; not entirely gently tugging her out of the line of fire, but both hands hastily guiding her away -- almost, in his strength, lifting her briefly off the ground before settling her back away from the newly fallen snow pile, the woman now safely tucked away under the berth of the eave, closer to the cold stone of the wall. Just as quickly, his hands released her -- aware of their possible unwelcome, his dark eyes still lifted to the parapets above them; noting the glare of light where there was now no obstruction.
"Careful." The words were an afterthought.
Rosalinda Sandoval
[OOC: Let me know if this scenario doesn't work for you and I can tweak it; or the date!]